


i’m so bad (like michael)

by orphan_account



Series: the 25 days of midam [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 25 Days of Midam, ADAM MILLIGAN IS A BELIEBER SPREAD THE WORD, Adam Milligan Flirts, Adam Milligan is a Shit, Christmas, I hate myself, M/M, Michael (Supernatural) Does Not Understand, Michael (Supernatural) Just Wants to Sleep, this is so stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He wasn’t even sure how someone could do this to themselves— it seemed like a torture, something that would be seen in Hell. It was truly unbelievable one could subject themselves to this pain. Michael, himself, had never been one to listen to Christmas music religiously during the holiday’s but he couldn’t be biased; there was no way. Anyone else would want to cry; anyone else would want to shoot themselves.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: the 25 days of midam [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558363
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	i’m so bad (like michael)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt; Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud.
> 
> title from another fucking justin bieber song i’m so sorry it’s from ‘drummer boy’ also i make too many references to his fucking christmas album in these oneshot’s it’s pathetic i hate the album so much

Somewhere in the universe, whatever higher power existed, was probably getting off on this, Michael thought. He lay on his chest in his bed, his face and ears covered by a pillow, but that made no difference. 

He wasn’t even sure how someone could do this to themselves— it seemed like a torture, something that would be seen in Hell. It was truly unbelievable one could subject themselves to this pain. Michael, himself, had never been one to listen to Christmas music religiously during the holiday’s but he couldn’t be biased; there was no way. Anyone else would want to cry; anyone else would want to shoot themselves.

He wasn’t sure how many times he had heard it at this point— for four hours, at least. Justin Beiber’s voice blaring through the paper-thin walls of the apartment complex made him want to commit a holiday homicide.

To top it off, his neighbor had decided singing along was a  necessity to how the Earth turned. If he didn’t sing, the world would end, the apocalypse would loom upon them all.

Bullshit. Michael was going to kill him. And then burn his body. And then flush his ashes down the toilet. The saddest part about the entire situation was that Michael wasn’t exaggerating. 

“I am going to _kill him_ -“ Michael hissed, muffled by the pillow he had his face shoved into. He felt for his phone, grabbing it as he rolled over on his side, still clutching the pillow to his ear with his empty hand. Turning his phone on, he checked the time; 12:06 A.M. “I am going to fucking kill him.”

It must have been the lack of sleep for the past few days that caused him to decide to get up; tonight was the night he didn’t have cases to work on, one of two nights of holiday break before he had to be back at it again. His next trial was on the twenty-seventh, and he should be working on it right now. But, as Michael had tried to convince himself, self-care came before work. Every time. That was probably why he was stuck in such a shitty apartment.

He sighed as he threw his phone onto his bed, leaving his apartment; slamming the door, as he continued to walk up the flight of stairs, arriving at the room above him. 406, the door read, as Michael knocked on it, loud and firm. The door flung open almost immediately, revealing a lean man with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, and Michael almost forgot why he was there. “Uh.” He started, glancing down and realizing the man was in nothing more than his underwear. “Hi.”

“Hi?” The man asked, his face shocked for barely a moment, before it shifted to a scrutinizing glare at Michael. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, bicep and triceps muscles shifting prominently. “Uh- sorry, but what do you need?”

“Headphones exist, dickwad.” Michael snapped, his tone dry. “I understand you have your kinks and stuff, or whatever, and you need to get off every once in a while, but,  dude ; why the hell have you been playing this painfully awful song for four hours straight?”

The man gave a lopsided grin, and Michael wanted to scream as Justin Beiber’s voice continued to fill his ears. “You’re Michael, right? In apartment 306?”

“Yes, I am, and I would  kill for at least four hours of sleep tonight.” The lawyer deadpanned, his eyes set on the man’s facial expressions. “So for the love of God, please turn it off. I’m begging you.”

“I will-“ The man started, frowning at Michael slightly. “I’m Adam, by the way. And I do have a perfectly reasonable excuse to be playing this. Believe me, it was as much torture for me as it was for you.”

“I can’t say I’m not intrigued-“ Michael realized any plan he had of sleeping tonight had gone completely out the window.

“I wanted to get my hot neighbor’s attention, and since he’s ignored all of my past attempts, I thought I’d up the game a bit,” Adam shrugged. He opened his mouth, a look of realization dawning his face. “Hold up.”

“Um,  what ?”

Adam appeared once again, a slip of paper in his hand. There was a red sharpie, capped in his hand, and he shoved the paper into Michael’s hands. “Thanks. Go get those four hours of sleep. Merry Christmas, call me sometime.” And he promptly slammed the door in Michael’s face.

To say Michael was confused was an understatement; but as he glanced over the paper, Adam’s phone number written in red sharpie with a heart at the end of it, he had no doubt he’d be calling Adam. 

And maybe, just maybe, if they ended up going somewhere, he’d force Adam to listen to _*NSYNC_ ’s _Home For Christmas_ album. Just maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> also for the record i do not recommend none of these songs referenced in this fic i apologize greatly!! someone tell me to stop!!
> 
> uh anyways i miss writing angst and i’m sure when i finally Finish This Thing i’ll sit down and try to write it and it’ll either be amazing cause i keep all my own frustrations pent up to take out on writing, or it’ll suck (like this oneshot lmfao)
> 
> 8 days until 12/12 can you HEAR ME CRYING????
> 
> sorry i haven’t had Actual Social Interaction in a few days i’m sorry ily thanks for reading


End file.
